Nothing Better to Do
by Jim Carnival
Summary: All Osomatsu wanted was quality time with his brothers—even when all they wanted was quality time away from him. It's a good thing Ichimatsu never had anything better to do.


**Note:** Finally, one thing besides _Doraemon_ is of interest to me! Is this the first _Osomatsu-san_ fic on here . . . ? Well, this isn't really anything deep; it's more of a short spin on the episode in which Osomatsu butts into his brothers' lives and gets taken apart in various ways. I have a horrible AU I will be writing soon, however. This was a tentative practice.

* * *

In one day, Osomatsu's face had been quite generously tenderized by two sets of fists. One round had been graciously administered by Choromatsu. The second came after a struggle of sorts, but Karamatsu made sure that he didn't cheat Osomatsu on what he had earned. In Osomatsu's humble opinion, Karamatsu had been a bit too generous.

Osomatsu rubbed his jaw, which felt rather lumpy and disturbingly warm and tender under his fingers. He kept his gaze locked on the ground, watching the sidewalk scroll beneath his worn sneakers. The laces flopped and the plastic ends clicked against the cement.

As Osomatsu walked, he became aware of the city ambience around him. Voices chattering, birds honking in the sparse trees, car horns blaring. Tires squalling; a vague crash in the distance. The sounds piled up in his ears and drove a hammering headache into the middle of his skull. He reached up to shove his fingers into his hair and gritted his teeth, which made his jaw emit an interesting cracking noise.

When Osomatsu opened his eyes and felt his face fall from its horrifying grimace, he found himself a target of the piercing glares of two women who were meandering by—arms linked with Todomatsu. All at once, Osomatsu's infirmities faded. A smile crept over his face like melted butter.

"Todomatsu!" Osomatsu leaned forward on the toes of his sneakers, waiting for Todomatsu to bound toward him. "Hey—"

He broke off when he noticed the two women clutch Todomatsu's arms tighter and take a step closer to him. Osomatsu's smile went slack. Todomatsu's eyes were pinched and held a silent plea.

 _"Don't embarrass me, big brother."_

Osomatsu scuffed a couple of steps back and reached up to scrub his finger over his nose with a nervous laugh. "Are you on a date, Todomatsu? D'ya mind if I tag along?"

Todomatsu's shoulders tightened. All the warmth and recognition faded from his eyes, leaving his gaze as indifferent as a stranger's. He raised one eyebrow under his cropped bangs in a measured sort of surprise.

"Karamatsu and Choromatsu are so mean," Osomatsu informed, sliding his feet over the sidewalk until his heels met. He folded his arms over his chest and tilted his chin. "I just wanted to play. It's not like I meant for Karamatsu to fall in the river, but it was pretty f—"

"Excuse me . . . " Todomatsu said. "Do I know you?"

Osomatsu lowered his arms. His hands dangled uselessly at his sides. One side of his mouth hitched up in a fragile smile as he waited for a punchline. Todomatsu continued to stare at him with the same annoyance he would direct at a gnat blowing the mayonnaise jar.

Before Osomatsu could think of a reply, Todomatsu pushed past, leading the two women along with him. One of the women glanced over her shoulder at Osomatsu, then pressed a bit closer to Todomatsu. Their heels clacked over the cement as they brushed away.

"Who was that guy?" Osomatsu heard one of them say. "Do you have a brother? He looked a lot like you."

"Hm?" Todomatsu said. "What guy? Was I talking to someone?"

The giggles faded into the city clamor. Osomatsu was left staring at the milling crowd that had engulfed Todomatsu and his dates. He swallowed back the sensation of a hundred needles clawing up his throat. Slowly, he slid his hands into his jeans pockets and looked down.

A sudden pang of loneliness struck him like a mallet against a gong and made every nerve cold. With no intention of a destination, Osomatsu dragged his feet over the ground and wandered down the sidewalk. Ignored the people that breezed past. Voices blended into a hum.

His tumbling storm of thoughts settled on counting his footsteps. He stared down at his worn sneakers, listening to the _crunch-crunch_ of rubber against asphalt. With every step, he focused more on keeping the numbers in order than on nursing his wounded ego.

 _487 . . . 488 . . . 489 . . . 490 . . . ._

It wasn't until he heard the bubbly whirr of a cricket before he realized that the packed city scenery had expanded into the suburbs. His pace slowed, and he glanced around. It was far quieter. The air was crisp and chilly. He thrust his hands deep into the pockets of his sweatshirt and rubbed them against the fleece lining. Fretfully, he cast a glance over his shoulder. The sun had already sunk low beneath the horizon, splashing only a faint hue of gold on the undersides of the blue clouds. The houses and trees were silhouetted against the dusky sky. Their black outlines were sharp and almost eerie.

 _I should be getting home,_ Osomatsu told himself in an attempt to calm his own unease. _The others are probably wondering where I am. Wait, I need to make sure they haven't eaten all the oden yet!_

Osomatsu turned around on his heel, and a harsh scuffing noise grated up the silence. Osomatsu froze. His heart throbbed until his head swam. He scanned the area, hoping to see nothing more vicious than a cat that had leaped down from a fence and scrabbled into the alleyway. He squinted through the shadows. His heart swelled up into his throat when he saw not a cat or raccoon, but a stooped, disheveled figure looming by the wall.

Immediately, the figure turned. The orange light from the streetlamp spread over him like marmalade, illuminating his features for only an instant. The instant was enough—relief sacked Osomatsu until he slouched and laughed with overwhelming relief.

"Ichimatsu!" His voice echoed. "What are you doing all the way out here? You had me going for a minute, you creep."

At the sound of Osomatsu's voice, Ichimatsu went rigid as a fencepost. He plunged his hands deep into the pockets of his hoodie and ducked into the recesses of the alleyway.

Frustration mounted in Osomatsu's chest, but he crushed it back with a deep breath that was minced by little puffy laughs. "Oh, come on, Ichimatsu. Are we playing hide-and-seek?"

Osomatsu glanced up the street, then on impulse darted across the road, shoelaces flapping. Antsy, he jogged in place a bit before clamping his elbows against his sides and surging into the dank alley.

As soon as he drowned in the shadows, he held out his hands for balance. The side of his foot struck a garbage can that clanged and teetered. Osomatsu sucked a breath through his teeth that chilled his gums. Presently he remembered exactly how sore his jaw was.

He continued groping his way through the narrow alley and picking his way through the maze of garbage until he approached the wall barring the end of the cul-de-sac. A few slats of fading sunlight peeked over the wall and pinned stars of light on the warped lids of the trashcans. Osomatsu slowed to halt. As his eyes adjusted, he caught a movement.

Ichimatsu crouched in front of the wall, his hunched back towards Osomatsu. His shoulders shifted.

A curious sneer twisted Osomatsu's mouth. _What is he doing in a place like this?_ Osomatsu craned his neck to see, pinching his eyes into squints.

That was when he noticed it—a scraggly gray cat had crept toward Ichimatsu. Its kinked tail swayed in a twitchy rhythm. Ichimatsu held out his hand, still as a statue. Without hesitation, the cat crawled closer and pressed its scruffy head into Ichimatsu's cupped palm. With a gentleness Osomatsu rarely witnessed, Ichimatsu rubbed the cat's ears fondly.

Osomatsu pushed his fist against his mouth to hide the grin that dug into his cheeks. _He came to play with the cats? I wouldn't have expected that from him, but somehow . . . it's actually sort of cute._

"Hey, Ichimatsu!" Osomatsu called in singsong, splaying his arms and leaning forward into his grin. "Want to play with me, too?"

Ichimastu choked and ducked his head, his shoulders shooting up to his ears. The cat launched up on its tiptoes to spit a feeble hiss at Osomatsu, then tore away in a flash of fur and mange. Ichimatsu's outstretched hand froze midair. After a long, tense minute, his fingers curled.

Osomatsu watched him, trying to breathe through the smog of guilt that suffocated him. He hooked his finger under the collar of his sweatshirt to loosen it. Ichimatsu didn't move.

"Um . . . Ichimatsu? Aw, I didn't know the cat was—"

"I didn't feed her yet." Ichimatsu's monotone was flatter than ever and almost vibrated with contempt. Without looking at Osomatsu, he said, "She was hungry."

A pang hit Osomatsu's heart. Without thinking, he pushed his hand against his ribs to curb the flare of guilt. "Come on, I didn't mean to scare it away. Don't be mad. Look, we can go play for a while and it'll make you feel better, okay?"

For the first time, Ichimatsu turned his head to stare directly at Osomatsu. Perhaps through him. His eyes were hard and cold as marbles. Osomatsu swallowed the vague buzz of fear that rattled up his throat. Icy sweat prickled his face.

"I don't want to play." With that announced, Ichimatsu roused himself to his feet. He swayed a little, his flat cardboard expression never faltering. He slid his hands into his pockets and slumped forward in a slouch that whacked three inches off his stature. Silently, he stalked past Osomatsu with no more concern than if Osomatsu were a flea.

Osomatsu clamped his teeth into his tongue and folded his arms behind his back to squeeze his fists together. He concentrated on stifling his indignation for what felt like ages, but lasted all of three seconds. The dam of self-control crumbled, and in one swoop Osomatsu swerved around, shot out his hand, and clutched Ichimatsu's sleeve. Ichimatsu stumbled, and jerked his arm away with a glare that could have brought an elephant to its knees. Osomatsu retained his vise-like grip on his sleeve.

"Wait," Osomatsu said in something suspiciously resembling a whine. He cleared his throat with a huffy cough and glanced away. Ichimatsu's tension faded; Osomatsu felt him relax. Begrudgingly, Ichimatsu shuffled from side to side before succumbing. He turned to face Osomatsu, waiting for an explanation.

Unnerved by the intense gaze, Osomatsu began to wrinkle the sleeve between his fingers to occupy his sweaty hands. Ichimatsu remained roughly as animate as a marble statue.

"Don't be mad, little brother," Osomatsu said. He studied Ichimatsu's face, which was half obscured by his surgical mask. Ichimatsu scarcely blinked. Panic mounted further in Osomatsu's gut, hot and wrenching, like too much curry ramen. Out of desperation, he grasped the sleeve and twisted the loose fabric around his fist.

"I don't want you to hate me, too," he blurted. "Karamatsu and Todomatsu and Choromatsu don't want anything to do with me. I don't even know _where_ Jūshimatsu is. They've ignored me all day; I don't want to lose you, too!" The words spilled out in a tangle before Osomatsu could grit his teeth and gulp them back.

Ichimatsu continued to stare, his eyes shaded by drooping lids. Frustrated, Osomatsu shook him a little, and said, "Maybe you don't know what it's like to be really be alone. You like sneaking around and falling asleep in weird places where we'll never find you. But what about me? I'm your big brother. I don't want to be without you _all_ the time! The others want to leave and do their own thing and play with their own friends and get too embarrassed when I'm around, but—but . . . "

Osomatsu lowered his head, having no idea how to finish. But what? _You don't have a social life so you might as well hang around me? You don't have anybody to call a friend so playing with me is better than nothing?_

Suddenly Osomatsu was exhausted. The realization struck him that currently, he wanted nothing more than to crawl into the futon at home and bundle up in the blankets and stay there until next week—maybe next year.

Ichimatsu had barely blinked the entire time. Of course, Osomatsu was less than eloquent. Ichimatsu wouldn't be particularly moved with compassion by any sort of rousing monologue.

Osomatsu heaved a sigh that left him feeling as empty and weak as a wet paper bag. His hand lingered on Ichimatsu's arm for a moment, slid down a bit, and finally released his sleeve.

The wind took a turn and aimed a soft gust down the alley. A few crumpled pieces of paper and crushed styrofoam cups skittered over the ground. Loose flaps of trash bags flapped. The warm scent of ripe garbage filtered like a sewage blast from afflicted bowels through the air.

At last, Ichimatsu moved. He tilted his head, and his tousled greasy bangs sifted over his eyes to riffe in the breeze. He pushed his hands deeper into his pockets and scuffed the side of his sandal over the packed dirt.

"I'm not going anywhere."

At this, Osomatsu whipped his head up so fast that his neck cracked. He examined Ichimatsu suspiciously. "What?"

"You heard," Ichimatsu mumbled. He curled his finger around the strap of his mask and lowered it a fraction of an inch. "I'm stuck with you. Maybe it's not ideal. But it's okay."

A smile crept over Osomatsu's face before he could press his lips together and keep from looking like a pale circus clown. Judging by the look of disgust Ichimatsu gave him, Osomatsu assumed he failed in his attempt. A myriad of things to say spiraled through his head, various mixtures of gratitudes and affections—none of them seemed especially suitable, but Osomatsu knew Ichimatsu wouldn't care.

"You joker," Osomatsu said. He hooked his elbow around Ichimatu's to link arms with him and hauled him forward a few steps. Ichimatsu reluctantly trailed behind him, more dragged than of his own accord. Osomatsu trotted out of the alley and shielded his eyes from the light that spread from the streetlamps. A car rumbled up the road, grinding gravel and spitting exhaust. Out of habit, Osomatsu stepped in front of Ichimatsu until the car rattled away.

Ruffled, Ichimatsu said, "Where are we going?"

"Home." Osomatsu clutched Ichimatsu closer as he stepped off the curb. Ichimatsu's foam sandals smacked against the concrete. "We need to get to the video games before Todomatsu and Jūshimatsu come back."

They walked. Leaves rustled. Ichimatsu's shallow breaths were synchronized with Osomatus's footsteps.

"Hey, Ichimatsu?"

Silence. Osomatsu leaned his head to the side until it rested against Ichimatsu's. He sighed contentedly.

"Y'know . . . all things considered . . . you're actually a pretty good little brother."

* * *

 **Note:** I think I have forgotten how to write. But I am preparing to write that clone AU. Sometime.


End file.
